


In the Thickening of Fear

by Bluehaven4220



Series: Methos and Berna: World Enough and Time [2]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Action, Adventure & Romance, Dreams, F/M, Family History, Flashbacks, Male-Female Friendship, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27336316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluehaven4220/pseuds/Bluehaven4220
Summary: If nothing else, Berna Gordon has learned one thing about being friends with both Adam Pierson and Duncan MacLeod… if you’re looking for peace and quiet, turn around and walk back the way you came.
Relationships: Methos/Original Character
Series: Methos and Berna: World Enough and Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995949
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	In the Thickening of Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to lightspire for the conversations, hand-holding, ideas bouncing, and general cheerleading for this story. I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you, truly.
> 
> Title comes from the song "Blood Makes Noise" by Suzanne Vega
> 
> Translations of words and phrases in the end notes
> 
> Currently unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

The morning after everyone had gathered in the bar, Berna met Duncan at the dojo, having asked if they could make time to spar before leaving Joe’s for the evening. It wouldn’t do for her to be sitting around Adam’s apartment feeling sorry for herself, she reasoned. Exercise had helped keep her distracted in other stressful times; there was no reason why it wouldn’t help now. 

So, they’d arranged for Adam to drop her off while he borrowed her car to go meet a book dealer who might have found a copy of a journal from the fifteenth century that belonged to someone named ‘Methos’. Something told her she’d heard that name before, but she couldn’t quite remember where. Perhaps her Opa had mentioned the name once, but it could have been a story he’d made up to entertain her.

Blinking to regain her focus, she worked away on the katas and techniques Duncan had assigned for practice, feeling her muscles tense and relax as she warmed up. It just felt right; getting back into the swing of things, so to speak. 

She felt Duncan come up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Berna reached up and clasped his hand in response. Yes, I know you’re there, the gesture said. Turning, she stood straight and bowed to him.

He bowed in return. “Those katas are looking much better, Berna.”

“Thank you, Duncan,” she nodded. “So then, what do you have planned for me today?”

“I’m going to see how much you’ve retained from not practicing.”

“Well, forgive me for having my world turned upside down.” They bowed to each other once again; a sign of a session beginning. “Just because I haven’t been in the gym doesn’t mean I haven’t been exercising…” she caught him behind the knee.

Duncan hit the mat with a hard _thud_ and a gasp of both surprise and pain _._

“Case in point.”

“You’re fighting dirty, Berna Gordon.” He rolled over and up onto his knees, pinning her.

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” she brought her knee up and connected with Duncan’s stomach. “You’ve told me time and time again that my opponent won’t always fight fair.”

Duncan winced and reeled around, fighting to catch his breath and maintain his balance. “You sure we’re talking about you and me dueling?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” She kicked out again, brought him down to the mat again, wrapped her legs around his to immobilize. “Have to be prepared for anything and everything, don’t we?”

“Berna…” he tapped her leg, a signal to let him go. “What is this really about?”

“Sparring, what else would it be about?” She let him go, watched as he then signaled for her to sit on the mat. 

“I’ve taught you to fight fair,” he started. “And here you are kicking behind the knee to incapacitate. What’s happened?”

Berna exhaled sharply, and hung her head.

“You know how yesterday, we were all dancing and singing and being happy together?”

Duncan nodded.

“My mother slipped an envelope into my guitar case. It was a cheque from David. And it's barely a dent in what he owes me.”

Duncan winced briefly. 

“And here’s the kicker. I _know_ he has the money. He’s just being a dick about it.”

“Four thousand dollars is a lot of money, Berna. Perhaps you could think of this as the first instalment.”

“I will not,” she growled. “I want the money he owes me, the amount that _we agreed to,_ **_now._** " She flushed, angry red creeping up her neck. “I did the household budget for all six years we were together, I know he has the money . A quarter of the paycheque from the job he has now plus a _tiny_ bit of his savings is enough to pay me what he owes me _and_ keep him comfortable for at least another year. A cheque for two hundred and fifty dollars just about covers a replacement for the bag of clothes he threw in the bin and slow cooker he set on fire!”

Duncan nodded slowly. “Are you able to do anything about it at this very moment?”

Berna huffed, brought her knees up, and rested her chin. “No, not right away. Not unless I want to get arrested.”

“So, did you want to continue this lesson? Or have you had it for now?”

“I don’t know…” she dropped her head momentarily. “I’m stuck, Duncan.”

“Stuck?”

“I don’t know if I want to go back to the apartment and get the rest of my stuff, or if I should buy everything new for another apartment, or stay with Adam, or hell, leave Seacouver entirely.”

“That doesn’t sound stuck, that sounds discombobulated.”

“Well, whatever, you get my point…” she shrugged. “What do I do?”

“I can’t answer that for you.”

Berna snorted. “I know.” She got up and stretched. “And I’m useless today. We both know it hasn’t been my best workout or training session. Best to quit while we’re ahead.” She got up and waited for Duncan to stand. They bowed to each other to end the session, and Berna took off up the stairs toward the showers and change rooms.

ooOoo

Methos pulled into the dojo parking lot to see Berna sitting on the curb, her head resting on one hand. Poor girl, she looked exhausted. And no wonder. Workouts with Duncan tended to be long and brutal, especially when you’d been having trouble sleeping.

She looked up and simply shook her head at him. 

Methos smiled at her quickly, and reached over to open the passenger side door. 

Berna got into the car, and stared out the window as he pulled away from the curb.

Finally, when they were about three minutes away from the apartment, she spoke.

“How’d your expedition go?”

“It wasn’t anything,” he answered. “Once I read through it, it was an old cookbook. I’ve never _seen_ so many ways to use lentils and chestnuts.”

“Together?” Berna made a face. “Sounds revolting.”

“Not all of it. Some sounded quite nice…” he pulled into his parking spot and took the key out of the ignition. He turned in his seat to look at her. “Bad day?”

Berna nodded and sighed. “And that’s not the half of it…” she paused, returning his gaze. “Can I ask your opinion on something?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“What do you call someone who refuses to pay their debt in full, when the person they owe _knows_ they have the funds?”

Oh. He had a feeling he knew who she was referring to. 

“A thief and a fraud,” he fixed his gaze on her, rested his forefinger on his cheek and his middle finger across his chin. “How much did he send you?”

She repeated the amount she’d mentioned to Duncan in the dojo. “And the worst part is, if I call him and ask him to send me the rest of it, he’s going to use that as an excuse to contact me over and over again.”

“Was there any note in with the cheque?”

“Yeah, and you want to know what it said?”

Methos nodded.

“‘ _Part 1 of however many I feel like, Bitch. Have fun trying to survive without me_.’” Berna felt tears welling and turned away. “As though I’d want him back.”

He sighed, and reached over to put a hand on her shoulder. 

“The money and paying down a debt is important, yes, but I _do not_ deserve what he said in the note. _He_ was the one cheating. He can’t exactly say that he tripped and fell naked on top of her, can he? Why the hostility?”

Methos knew that the most plausible answer was that David was embarrassed and sorry that she’d caught him out, and was therefore trying to place the blame on her in order to assuage his guilt. However, he also knew a rhetorical question when he heard one, and thought it best not to answer out loud. Instead, he offered his hand, palm up to show he meant no threat.

She took his offer, interlacing her fingers with his. 

“Thank you.”

Methos saw her shoulders relax, a visible change.

“Tell you what,” he started, smiling at her. “If you can get a few days off from the bar, I know just the place to rest, recharge, and forget your troubles.”

“Yeah?” She responded. “What were you thinking?”

“Do you like camping?”

Berna’s eyes lit up. 

“I _love_ camping,” she answered. “That was my favourite part of Girl Scouts. Putting up the tents, building a fire, roasting marshmallows, canoeing… all of it.”

“No tents where I’m thinking.”

“No?”

“No,” he confirmed. “I was thinking that maybe we would rent a cabin for a week or so. Then we always have a base to come back to at the end of each day. And it would save us from having to break camp every day and carrying everything around with us.”

Berna leaned over and kissed his cheek. “When do we go?”

ooOoo

A few days later, Berna found herself pulling into the parking lot of the visitor’s centre, listening to Adam as he confirmed their reservation and got the keys to their cabin rental for a week-long stay in Mount Rainier National Park.

It had been a long time since she’d been camping, and even then, the last time she’d been camping had been horrid. It had rained the first three days, the lake so swollen she hadn’t been able to get her canoe out until the very last day of the trip. It hadn’t been _entirely_ wasted, though. She’s still spent a week alone, sleeping in a tent, cooking over an open fire, reading, hiking, fishing... 

“Berna?”

“Hmm?” 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She shook her head as they drove toward their cabin. “Not worth that much at the moment.” 

“Okay then,” Adam turned the corner and pulled the car up in front of the cabin. “Here we are. Home sweet home.”

Berna felt her jaw drop. The roof of the cabin was high and triangular, covered with flat roof tiles, with one large chimney poked out the centre. Several small windows let in just enough light to the rooms below the roof. The cabin itself was surrounded by grass, a huge tree in the center (complete with a swing) and bushes on the borders of the plot.

“ _T_ _his is beautiful!”_ she blinked. “I can’t wait! Let’s open the door!”

He smiled at her, and turned the key in the lock. 

The front door opened to reveal a small kitchen, a staircase off the side of the living room, and a bathroom. 

It was the best cabin she’d ever seen. 

“I’m going to grab our bags,” she turned to move past him when he stopped her.

“I’ll get them, Berna,” Adam gently laid his hand on her stomach. “You should make the most of your time here. Explore the cabin for a few minutes. _Mi casa es su casa_.”

“Okay,” she was sure she had a big, goofy grin on her face, and at that point, she didn’t care. “Wait, did you say _mi casa?_ Is this _your_ cabin?”

He smirked at her. 

“Oh, _it is,”_ Berna felt her eyes go wide. “Then why the song and dance about going through check in? Couldn’t you just drive straight on in?”

“Technically, it’s not in the park, but it’s close enough that I could comfortably say that it is, provided no one looks too closely. I still check in though, since the only way to get to the cabin is through park land, and they want to be sure my pass is up to date.”

Berna shrugged. “Makes sense.” She let the silence for a moment and closed the distance between them. “Hey, Adam?”

“Yes?”

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

He smiled at her. “Of course it is.” He pulled her close, kissed her softly. “Be right back. In this instance, I’m glad we packed light.”

“What instance?”

He bent and whispered in her ear. 

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day…” she smirked, and made her way back toward the bathroom.

She heard a soft knock at the door a few minutes later as she washed her hands, and the door opened with a slight creak. Her overnight bag appeared on the floor by the sink, and Adam was gone from the doorway as silently as he’d arrived.

Deciding to take her time, she pulled her towel, shampoo and conditioner, toothbrush, and toothpaste out of her backpack. Everything now in its place, she pulled on the tap to start the shower. 

It was the best thing she could have done. As she let the warm water cascade over her head, she took stock of her surroundings and emotions.

Here, in Adam’s cabin for the first time, only a few days removed from finding David in their bed with another woman, she was _nervous._

The _squish_ of the shampoo into her palm did nothing to quell the butterflies in her stomach. 

Logically, feeling nervous didn’t make any sense. Adam had already seen her naked, and they’d had sex twice so far, the first time mere hours after she’d lost her home…

_Oh._

The sex had been a result of adrenaline, grief, and shock. Come to think of it, it had been explosive and quick, but still better than anything she’d had in the six years previously. 

However, that didn’t necessarily mean that either of them had stopped to think about what they’d done. And now that the dust had somewhat settled, they were having to learn how to act around each other, both in and out of the bedroom.

Berna blinked. Bad idea, as the shampoo she’d rubbed into her hair cascaded into her eyes. 

“Damn it!” she muttered to herself, tilting her head back and rinsing things out of her eyes as quickly as possible. Great. It would look like she’d been crying… again. 

Conditioner followed quickly, all the while keeping her eyes closed, thanks to the stinging. 

Somehow, she managed to get out of the shower and grab her towel, sticking her face into it, eyes open, to get the remnants of the soap out. 

Luckily, it didn’t take very long, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to be red-eyed once she finished in the bathroom. Oh well, shit happens. Wrapping herself in the same towel, she dried herself off thoroughly, and went digging into her backpack. 

Berna had brought both a set of lingerie (hey, you never knew, it could come in handy), and a mismatched set of her preferred sleepwear. Considering her nerves, and how cold she suddenly felt, she opted for her oversized t-shirt and long pajama pants. Hopefully Adam wouldn’t mind that she was in her pajamas so soon after they arrived. 

Opening the bathroom door, she saw Adam in the small kitchen, unpacking the cooler of food they’d brought along for the first day or so. They could always drive into town to the grocery store if they needed.

He looked over his shoulder at her, and smiled.

“You look quite comfortable,” he observed as he closed the cupboard above the counter. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit better, aside from getting shampoo in my eye,” she chuckled, dabbing her face with the towel. 

“Ooh,” he winced, opening the kettle and examining whether it needed a cleaning before use. “That’s not fun. Do you want me to take a look at your eyes?”

“No, I… I think I’ll be okay,” she insisted. “Damn, that hasn’t happened in a _long_ time. How do I look?” she moved the towel away from her face, eyes still stinging.

“Absolutely beautiful,” Adam put the kettle down on the counter and opened his arms. 

Berna stepped into his embrace and sighed, taking in his scent. She could still detect the faint smell of wood smoke, and the mint toothpaste he was fond of. 

“Oh I needed that,” she said against his shoulder. “Thank you, Adam. I’m so sorry I’ve made a mess of this already.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Berna. Nothing’s been made a mess of,” he insisted. “Come on, I’ve got the fire going in the living room. You can lie down for a bit, if you like. I’ll put the kettle on, and then we can think about supper.”

“I like that idea…” 

Adam slipped an arm around her waist and walked her to the living room, where a decent sized fire was crackling behind a protective barrier. It bathed the room in an inviting orange glow, and the chill was slowly dissipating. 

Berna laid down on the couch as Adam pulled a crocheted blanket off the back of the couch and covered her with it.

“You have a Nan blanket?” she burrowed underneath it. “I like it. It looks like the one my Nan made for my Mum when she and my Dad got married.”

“This one was a gift,” Adam smiled as he tucked her in snuggly. “Rest now, Berna. I’ll bring you a cup of tea.”

“You’re too good to me, Adam,” she sighed as he watched her eyes closed. 

Adam bent and kissed her forehead, noticing just how peaceful she looked as she relaxed under the blanket.

ooOoo

Methos poured a measure of vinegar and water into the kettle and left it to sit, setting a timer for half an hour before he’d set it to boil. It had been a while since he’d been to the cabin, and over time, the kettle had accumulated a coating of limescale. It was one of the best things he’d ever learned about cleaning, he’d decided. 

The silence permeated the cabin as Berna slowly succumbed to sleep. All the emotion of the last few days had left her exhausted, he could see it in her face. Hopefully, a week away would help to put things in perspective. 

He felt a chill go up his spine, and looked out the window to see a familiar car pull up in front of the cabin. 

Dawson had shut off the engine and was sitting in the driver’s seat of his modified car, looking like he’d just seen a ghost. 

Maybe he had. It wouldn’t be the first time, especially in his line of work.

ooOoo

Berna found herself in a very pleasant dream, one detailing a memory from when she was a toddler. She’d been riding in a fancy car (though now that she was older, she recognized it as a taxi, but to a three year old, a taxi is fancy) all the way to the church where her Daddy had grown up. 

Mummy and Daddy had explained that they were going to visit Daddy’s Dad, her Opa, although he wouldn’t look like an ordinary Opa. He would be dressed in what Mummy called a monk’s habit, and he would look different than her Daddy. They would have to be quiet, as Opa lived in a monastery, and monasteries didn’t usually have children Berna’s age come to visit.

It felt strange, to be dreaming of seeing herself as a toddler bouncing up and down in the back of the taxi, dressed up in an outfit she was sure she’d picked out for herself: pink denim shortalls and a purple t-shirt, complete with frilly socks and white Velcro fastened shoes.

Her Opa was waiting for them just outside the front doors of the church, and Berna banged her hand against the taxi’s back window, screeching “Opa! Opa! Hi Opa!”

“Patience, Bernadine,” Mummy patted the seat beside her as Daddy paid the taxi driver. “We’ll see Opa in a moment.” 

Berna saw herself chanting “Opa, Opa, Opa,” until Daddy came around to open the door. She practically jumped out of the taxi until Daddy caught her around the waist and lifted her up. 

“Hold on, little one. Wait until Mummy is out of the taxi, then we will go.”

Her Mum joined them seconds later, and all three of them approached the open gate.

“Opa!” Toddler Berna shouted as she sprinted toward the man she knew as her Opa, dressed in the monk’s habit and bending to scoop her up into his arms before she ran him over. 

“Oh hallo!” He greeted her as she wrapped her arms around his neck to give him what her Mum called “squeezy hugs”. “Hallo mein schatz. Wie gehts?”

“Opa! Opa! We come see you!” she declared as she planted a loud kiss on his cheek. He smelled like herbs and fresh soil.

“And I’m so glad you did,” he patted her back as Mummy and Daddy followed behind her, smiling.

“Hello Father,” her Daddy smiled. “As you can see, we brought a small whirling dervish to visit you.”

“What’s this whirling dervish?” her Opa chided him as her Daddy leaned in and greeted Opa with a kiss on both cheeks. “Oh, Jos, surely you don’t mean Bernadine?”

“And that’s her on a quiet day,” Mum laughed as she stepped forward to greet Opa, same as Dad did, with a kiss on both cheeks. “She wouldn’t sleep a wink last night, Darius. She kept telling me all about how we were going to come visit and all the things she wanted to tell you.”

“I will be happy to hear whatever it is, Michelle,” the man she called Opa but was actually named Darius insisted. “Starting with this outfit. Did you pick it out all by yourself, Bernadine?”

“Yes, Opa,” she put her head on his shoulder. 

“You did a good job,” he told her. “Now then, should we go inside and get ourselves something to eat? It’s very good for you after a long journey, and from the sounds of your tummy, Bernadine Gordon,” he patted her back. “You need a snack.”

“She _was_ saying, Opa, that she wanted to wait until we got here so we could eat together. And it’s been a long time since scrambled eggs at breakfast,” Mum clarified.

“Can I have peanut butter toast, please, Opa?” she piped up. “With jam?”

“Peanuts butter toast? We’ll have to see if there are any jars of peanuts butter in the kitchens. If not, I’m sure we can find some toast and jam or porridge. How does that sound?”

“Yum!” Berna burrowed further into Darius’ shoulder as they began their walk inside, Mum and Dad walking behind, letting her have those precious moments with her Opa. “Opa, why do you say peanuts butter?”

“Because peanuts butter isn’t made with only one peanut, schatzi,” he answered. 

“Oh.” She nodded. “But Mummy and Daddy say peanut butter.”

“They are both the right answer, Bernadine,” Michelle interjected. “Just because Mummy and Daddy say it differently than Opa doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

Berna’s stomach decided it was the perfect time to growl loudly. 

Opa chuckled warmly as they walked. “Let’s see what we can find in the kitchen, hmm?”

A few minutes later, they all sat in the kitchens together, sharing their meal. As luck would have it, there had been no peanut butter in the kitchen that day. Opa, Mum, and Dad all opted for sharing a pot of tea and a plate of crackers, cheese, and apples, while Berna dug into a bowl of porridge sprinkled with brown sugar and slices of peaches mixed in. 

“Opa?” she asked as Michelle helped her wipe her hands once they’d all finished eating. “Why does your house look so big?”

“Why does my house look so big?” he repeated. “Well, that’s because it’s not just my house, Bernadine. There are lots of other people who live here, and we all take care of it together.”

“Oh…” It was kind of funny to see the look on her face as three year old Berna tried to puzzle out her next question. “How long have you lived here, Opa?”

“A long time, Bernadine. I am very old.”

“No you’re not, Opa!” she insisted, reaching forward and cradling his face in her tiny hands. “You’re not old. Your eyes say so.”

“Ah, my sweet child,” Darius gently removed her hands from his face and gave her parents a sympathetic look. “When you grow up, and meet the man with the old eyes, ask him if he knows about the water in the fountain. _He_ can tell you how old I am….”

ooOoo

“Berna?” she heard as she slowly swam back to the surface. “Berna…”

She blinked and saw Adam standing over her, a hand on her shoulder.

“Hmm?” she blinked, turning over onto her back. “How long have I been out for?”

“Around two hours,” he answered as she sat up and ran a hand through her hair to get it out of her face. “Joe arrived just after you fell asleep.”

“Joe’s here? What for?” she shook her head. “Wait, don’t answer that yet. I’ll be there in a minute,” she threw the blanket off, sighed as she looked down. “Well, I’m not getting dressed again. If he can’t handle seeing me in an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants, then that’s his problem.” She stood up and readjusted her sports bra. “Once the underwire bra is off, it’s _off.”_

Adam chuckled. “Tea’s ready, and I’ve got supper on the table. How do you feel about tomato soup?”

“Did you say tomato soup?” Berna asked. “Because if you did, stop it. You’re liable to make me fall in love with you.”

“Save that for later,” he bent and whispered in her ear, pinching her. 

“You _did not_ just pinch my bum, Adam Pierson,” she hissed playfully, returning the favour. “Whoops, my hand slipped.”

He kissed her quickly, a silent promise of things to come later.

Berna walked into the kitchen to find Joe sitting at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around mugs of soup, clenching his teeth.

“Hi stranger,” she quipped as she made her way to the cupboard for a mug. “To what do I owe this visit? Sorry I’m not dressed for company.” 

“Don’t get dressed up on my account,” he quipped as she ladled tomato soup for herself. “Anyway, sorry to barge in.”

“Barge in would imply that you kicked the door down. I would have woken up if you’d done that,” Berna sat down at the table and wrapped her hands around her mug, taking in the aroma. She could smell that herbs Adam had used. Delightful. “So, you still haven’t answered my question, Joe. What’s happened?”

Joe sighed. “I’ve booked you and Adam a ticket to Paris on the next available flight. It leaves three hours from now.”

Berna felt her eyes go wide, the relaxed and flirtatious feeling of only moments ago suddenly disappearing. “Well, if I wasn’t awake a few seconds ago, I am now,” she cleared her throat to steady herself. “Why are we on the first plane out of here?”

“Someone threw a Molotov cocktail through your parents’ front window. It caught the drapes and set fire to the whole place.”

“Fucking hell!” she nearly screamed, her mug slipping from her grasp, the smash against the linoleum barely registering in her ears. “And why did you let me sleep? Don’t answer that. Did my Mum and Dad get out? Are they okay?”

“They’re okay. We got them onto a plane to a secure location. The first thing they did was ask for you. Duncan’s with them.”

“Jesus Christ on a bike…” Berna blinked rapidly. “I’m not waiting. I’m grabbing my bag, and we’re going. Give me fifteen minutes.” Without another word, she dashed toward the living room.

ooOoo

Methos didn’t argue, instead cleaned the smashed porcelain up off the floor and was ready in less time than it took for Joe to get back out to his car, his passport safely tucked in the lining of his coat. If this was who he thought it might be, he knew someone would be by to “lock up” the cabin after they left. Frankly, if Joe had a plan to get them out of town so quickly, he’d be surprised if the cabin itself made it through the night. Good thing they’d barely had a chance to unpack anything, and anything they _had_ unpacked was replaceable. 

“Who was it, Joe?” he asked, leaning on the open front passenger’s side door. 

“David Terrell,” he sighed.

Methos felt his stomach do an uncharacteristic flip-flop. “Fuck! He was at the bar a few night ago, wasn’t he? The one who told Berna about her stuff being out on the curb…”

“No, that was a friend of his I'd never seen before," Joe sighed. "Although I’m not surprised that he sent someone else to tell Berna about that. David's the man she caught in her bed with another woman.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. Summoning at least four dead languages, he cursed fluently in all of them until he saw Berna coming out the front door. “You mean to tell me that _David Terrell,_ one of the most dangerous rogue Watchers on record , is Berna’s _ex-boyfriend?_ What’s he been doing in Seacouver?”

“He was watching…” he rattled off the name of an Immortal Methos didn’t care about. “Then he lost track of him, and then didn’t bother to check in. Apparently, he’d erased his digital footprint, and simply marked AWOL.”

Methos cursed again, muttering about the Watchers needing another complete overhaul as Berna threw herself into the back of Joe’s car, the hood of her sweater pulled up over her head. 

“What are you waiting for? _Let’s go!”_ she slammed the back door with more force than strictly necessary, but he understood she was making a point. 

Joe gave him a pointed look as he slid into the front passenger seat. Discreetly slipping Methos a gun while Berna was momentarily distracted checking she had her passport, he put the car in Drive and pulled away from the cabin. 

It was an hour’s drive to the airport, and even then, he noticed Joe kept one eye on the road and another in the rear view mirror. They wouldn’t be safe until he and Berna were on the plane and in the air, and they both knew it. Using handheld steering, Joe kept up with traffic, but the sound of an engine revving in the next lane alerted Methos to imminent danger. 

In his peripheral vision, he saw the motion of a gun being drawn and aimed at the back seat. 

“Berna, hit the floor!”

He barely had time to consider his actions before he heard a bullet go through the back right passenger side window, missing Berna by mere centimetres as she threw herself to the floor of the car. Methos lined up his shot and pulled the trigger multiple times, spraying the car that held the would-be assassins with gunfire, hitting the driver in the neck and neutralizing the danger almost as quickly as it had appeared. He’d never been able to hit any target as effectively before, he mused. What a time for his reflexes to be so efficient.

As each bullet hit their target, the vehicle swerved and crashed into the barrier, erupting in a ball of fire as Joe swerved in and out of traffic, bypassing the international airport terminal and toward a secluded air strip and hanger, where a small private plane and pilot were waiting. 

“You do realize this means you two can never come back to Seacouver, right?” Joe growled. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I just saved your damn life, Joseph Dawson!” Methos snapped as Berna rolled against the back of his seat. “Berna, are you okay back there?”

“What the _bloody blue fuck_ was that?” she screamed, her teeth audibly chattering. 

“Someone’s not happy about us leaving,” Methos explained as quickly as he could. “Stay down until we get to the plane, you hear me?”

“As though I could get up!” she yelled back. “You owe me an explanation, Adam Pierson!”

“As soon as we’re in the air, Berna, I swear it,” he answered as Joe turned a corner and into the air hanger. “Thank you, Joe.”

_“Go!_ _Thank me later! "_ Joe hollered. “Headquarters will sort this out. Get her on the plane, I’m right behind you.”

“Okay, okay…” Methos all but flew out of the passenger seat and threw open Berna’s door.

She was curled in the fetal position, shaking.

“Berna, _we have to go!”_ he insisted. 

“Can’t move,” she shook her head, the overhead lights shining in her eyes. 

“Berna,” he lowered his voice, speaking slowly and concisely. “Berna, if we don’t go now, we will die. I will explain everything once we are in the air,” he repeated. “Joe is coming, too. Let’s go. I’ll carry you on my back if I have to.”

“It’s a good thing I know you’re strong,” Berna hissed as she tuck-and-rolled herself out of the car, managing to stand. Grabbing her backpack, she sprinted toward the plane and up the stairs, Methos following just behind. Joe, on account of his cane, got a lift both to and up into the body of the plane. 

No one said anything as the plane taxied and took off. The air was so thick you could cut the tension with a knife, even as Joe got a call on the airplane’s phone attached to his seat, informing him that the ‘accident’ had been cleaned up and neutralized. 

They were safe, for now.

ooOoo

Berna sank further in her seat, pulled the string threaded through the hood of her sweater so it tightened around her head, shielding her from anyone else’s gaze. 

But she should have known it wouldn’t stop Adam from making his presence known. She felt him sit in the seat next to hers, saying nothing as she laid her head against the window. 

“You…” she cleared her throat. “You better have a damn good reason why someone just tried to _shoot_ me,” she managed through clenched teeth. “And if the next two words out of your mouth are ‘it’s complicated’, I _will_ punch you in the face.”

Adam nodded curtly. “And I would deserve it,” he agreed. “I’m loath to bring this up, Berna, but I need to ask you how much you actually know about David.”

“David? Why are you bringing David up?” she dropped her chin, peering at him from under her hood. 

“This is important. How much do you know about David Terrell?”

“David Terrell?” she parroted. “Who’s that?”

“The man you dated for six years.”

“Huh?” She was visibly confused. “David’s last name is Braithwaite.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“I just said that, didn’t I?” she answered. “What’s so important? What does David have to do with this?”

“From the sounds of it, everything.”

Berna sat up straight, and brought her hood down. She felt herself shaking, her nerves shot to hell and her throat on fire. 

“If this is as terrible as you’re making it sound, I want a double whisky and a plate of cheese and crackers,” she pushed the overhead bell and repeated her request to the flight attendant, who must have read everyone’s mind, as he brought them all double whiskies, and a hot meal instead. Good for what ails you, he reasoned. 

As Berna listened to both Adam and Joe fill in the blanks, she simply picked at her meal, taking everything in. It turned out that she knew next to nothing about David, despite having spent the last six years of her life with the man. 

The note with the cheque was a warning, she now knew, kicking herself for not having realized it beforehand. By getting involved with David, she’d put her entire family in danger. She didn’t know which was worse: understanding that she’d been in love with and had been living with a stranger who’d lied to her for six years and had now ordered the attack on her childhood home, or the fact that her parents were alive, and she had no idea where they were.

“So, once we get to wherever we’re going… I’m going to assume it’s not Paris?”

“No, it’s not Paris,” Joe confirmed. “But unfortunately I can’t tell you where we’re going until we get there. It’s too risky. I only said Paris while we were still at the cabin as a precautionary measure.”

“Turns out you were right to do that, considering,” Berna agreed. “So once we get to… wherever, what are the next steps?”

“Sleep for a few hours. I’ve got some of my best people guarding the doors. They know what David looks like. If he even sneezes in you or your family’s direction, that’s it for him.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel much better,” she took another sip of her whisky. “What about my Mum and Dad? Can you tell me where they are?”

“Not yet, not until we get there,” Joe sighed. “I’m sorry, Berna, but it’s the best way to ensure everyone’s safety.”

Berna gulped and wiped her eyes forcefully with the back of her hand. “Do either of you know what this is about? Why has David decided to come after us?” 

“I suspect it has something to do with Darius.” Adam answered.

“Darius? What could my grandfather have to do with us getting shot at? He died nearly five years ago!”

Joe and Adam exchanged looks. “Darius was your grandfather?”

“Remember I said my Dad was raised in a monastery until he was fifteen?”

“Yes.”

“Who do you think raised him?”

Joe hung his head. “Berna, you do know Darius couldn’t have children…”

“Right, I figured. Dad knows he was adopted,” she answered. “Darius never hid that from him, or from me. The only thing I knew was that Darius, I called him my Opa, didn’t look like other grandfathers. In fact, he once told me that, for how young he looked, he was actually very old.”

Adam nodded, silently urging her to continue. 

“And I, because I was _maybe_ three years old at the time, insisted he wasn’t old, because his eyes told me he wasn’t.” She paused for a moment, took a bite of her dinner. The warmth spread through her, helping to soothe her frayed nerves. “Then he told me that, when I grew up and met the man with the old eyes, I should ask him if he knew about the water in the fountain, and he could tell me how old Darius was….”

Suddenly, Darius’ words from long ago made such sense. Berna gathered up what was left of her courage, and looked Adam square in the eye.

“ _Que savez-vous de l’eau de la fontaine?”_

**Author's Note:**

> Translations  
> Hallo mein schatz. Wie gehts?- German: Hello, my sweetheart. How are you?
> 
> Schatzi- German: diminutive of sweetheart
> 
> Que savez-vous de l'eau dans la fountaine?- French: What do you know about the water in the fountain?


End file.
